High School Never Ends
by theyaoipirateship
Summary: first chapter of my first ever published fic! the ATBG younger gang is in high school now. Edgy!Carl deals with gossip about him, life changes, a friend's feelings, and everything else the teen years bring. Cake slash and smut.
1. Chapter 1

To his peers, Carl Foutley was always an exotic oddity. Even after his and Hoodsey's grossest schemes, he always retained a semi-popular status at school, perhaps because his fellow students were impressed by his ability to get in wild situations and emerge unscathed time and time again. There was a point, however, when the buck toothed young boy blossomed into a young man - and thus earned popularity for a different reason. The lanky, tan boy with ruddy brown hair stood at 5'9 this year, much to the interest of Lucky High's junior varsity basketball coach. Sadly for the coach, there would be no sports in Carl's future. He and Hoodsey had decided that sophomore year was bound to be the coziest two semesters of high school: not awkward like the still-adjusting oblivious freshman year, nor tough and packed with SAT retakes and college apps like junior and senior year were bound to be. Yes, with his best friend by his side and a schedule full of interesting science courses, Carl had a good feeling about this year.

"Carl! You better not even be thinking about ditching on your first day," Ms. Foutley hollered as she noticed the clock inching towards 7:15. Today is the start of the regular semester's second week, but Carl's first day. He'd been suspended at the end of last school year for playing a series of pranks on one Brandon Higsby.

"Carl! If you don't-"

"At ease, mom," Her son trotted down the stairs, running his hands through his signature messy hair. Whatever he was trying to do, it didn't make any noticeable difference.

"Wouldn't miss today anyway. We're dissecting a cat in Mr. Silia's." he explained, grabbing his backpack and a pack of poptarts.

"A cat? Silia really just jumps into it, huh?"

Carl gave her a quick hug and zipped to the door. "No complaints here. See ya, Lola."

He shuffled down the street while eating the poptarts, leaves crunching under his beat up converse. While Carl definitely didn't identify with any specific sub-culture group, he had always gone with a sort of grungy look. Most of his outfits consisted of a T-shirt with some 90's band on it, jeans that looked like they'd been through a couple natural disasters, and his trusty Chucks. Today was no different, besides the fact that he wore a leather jacket riddled with patches over his Modest Mouse tee. Perfect protection against the chilly autumn weather. While he definitely wasn't one to dress for attention, he dressed to express himself, like many other teens. For Carl, this sometimes could not be done without drawing attention. While a lot of the patches on his jacket were mysterious or simply silly, there was one that always seemed to get him in trouble with the jocks and insecure guys in the hall. It was purple, pink, and blue and featured the male and female symbols. This might've been ambiguous enough to avoid strange looks or bullying, if not for the "BI PRIDE" slogan right in the middle of it. Carl Foutley considered himself to be very out of the closet. But date a couple girls and watch the whole school forget about that guitar player guy you made out with at homecoming, he thought bitterly. The fact was, he was popular with the girls. He had that "bad boy allure" and the looks to match. But if he was also popular with the boys, it wasn't obvious. After all, it was high school, where everyone's still finding their identity while simultaneously trying their hardest to hide it. In any case, Carl was quick to set anyone straight about his sexuality. He snapped out of his reverie when he reached Lucky High as the shrill first bell rang through the halls. Slipping into first period biology, he vowed that although he missed Hoodsey by rushing this morning, he'd catch him at lunch. While he waited for class to begin, Carl watched his classmates pour in. Some were strangers, most he knew from middle and even elementary school. Nobody he knew intimately until Blake Gripling came strutting in, trying to remain dignified while demanding two bigger guys to stop playing keep away with some expensive looking gadget of his. Blake Gripling, Carl scoffed mentally. Another high school anomaly, like himself. Blake was popular because of his rich heritage and legendary sister Courtney, yet made fun of regularly due to his less-than-manly nature and high maintenance rich boy attitude. As the last bell rang out, Mr. Silia entered the classroom with a chubby purple-hoodie-wearing boy jogging in behind him. "Yes!" Hoodsey shouted as he pumped a fist. Technically on time. The class laughed in unison. Hoodsey wasn't really a high school anomaly. People laughed with him, not at him, as they were all mostly familiar with him as Carl's dorky harmless sidekick. Carl immediately felt relief seeing his closest friend, who automatically took the seat next to him. "Ew Carl!" he whispered. "Check out the board!" The blackboard read FELINE ANATOMY / DISSECTION I.

A mischievous grin spread across Carl's lips. Is there any better way to start a school year?

After the cat, after the second hall shuffle and a boring math class, it was lunch time. Carl unfortunately didn't have the same lunch as his best buddy. He settled for the boy who'd practically followed him around since fourth grade. "Hey Gripling," he walked up behind Blake and playfully linked his arm in his. "We're hanging out now." Blake blushed and lost the ability to speak. "What's wrong Blakey, I thought you liked me!" Carl fake-whined. This caused Blake to blush deeper yet and begin to sputter. "Well- uh, yo- um. You see, ahh." Carl leaned in to Blake's face, with a hand to his ear, meaning I can't hear you. Blake's breath caught. His heart probably stopped too but he couldn't let on. "Foutley! Damn you! How dare you grab hold of me in such a crude manner? Molest me no more!" He quickly made his exit, leaving Carl confused and alone. With nothing else to do, he decided to walk to his next class and wait for the bell.


	2. Chapter 2

"Blake Gripling is sooo cute."

"Omg no he's too young!"

"Well he is in our grade..."

"Does he even like girls?"

"Ashley!"

"What, I'm being honest. You know, I heard Carl Foutley was gay. But didn't he...?"

"Take Katie Santo's virginity? Date Vicki for two weeks and then cheat on her by going to third base with Lily Harmon?"

"D, all of the above. But didn't he make out with that one guy last homecoming?"

"He'd try anything once. I heard him and Lily totally got caught by the cops in a car parked by the beach. I think he also had vodka or weed or something."

"Probably both. It's Carl Foutley!"

The girls laugh. Carl overheard them talking outside of the girls bathroom while he was waiting for his next class, AP Literature. But no more. He yanked his backpack from the ground next to him and stormed out of the school. He started to run. Out of the hall, out of the parking lot, into a shitty neighborhood behind the school. He ran until his chest strained for air and then he collapsed in half, hands on knees and gasping for air. Carl's eyes stung with tears but he didn't cry them. He pulled out a cigarette and a lighter from his things and lit it, eyes squeezed shut. High school. What a joke. How impossible to think he'll ever be anything than that beautiful supernova, the resident exploding mess of his town, school, family. Why did he do those things? Why was he so mean to those girls? Carl took a hard drag and kicked the dirt. He felt perfectly alone in the world. Hoodsey couldn't understand, and neither could perfect older sister Ginger. Neither the mother that favored her, nor the father that abandoned them could help him. Carl finished his smoke and lit another. Then another. Then he checked the time:12:32. Still time to make AP Lit. He resolved to finish this tantrum later, and rushed back to class.

Much to his annoyance, the last seat left was next to Blake Gripling. Great, Carl thought. The weirdo with a grudge against me. Completely despite his outburst at lunch, Blake managed a very forced smile in Carl's direction. Carl tried to ignore the confusing blond boy next to him and doodled in his notebook. But of course, the teacher had to demand that everyone break into groups of two. When

chaos ensued she ended up assigning them. Naturally, Blake and Carl were an assigned pair. Figuring if they had to work together they might as well relieve the tension, Carl decided to be straight up. "What's your deal, Gripling? You're being so weird lately." When this elicited only blushing and no response, Carl tried something else. "I heard some girls gossiping about you before class," He waited for a reaction. "Cute, but too young and possibly gay." Blake shot daggers at him with his eyes. "Something like you," he retorted, dryly. "Cute, but too arrogant - and _certainly_ slatternly with either gender."

"And how the hell is it your business who I'm slatternly with?"

"It appears to be everyone's business, as you make sure everyone knows about your...escapades."

"You got a point there, Gripling." Carl gritted his teeth. How hard to believe we used to be friends, he thought. We used to play in stupid pirate ships and dog houses and pretend to be mortal enemies. Well at least the enemies part is the same. The boys silently worked for the rest of the class.

At the end of the school day, Blake slumped into the limousine that took him to and from school each day. He felt dreadful remorse for what he said to Carl earlier, but then again he usually regretted anything he said to the boy. It was so easy when they both were kids, but somewhere along with puberty came self-consciousness for Blake and a tumultuous slew of lovers for Carl. In eighth grade, Blake had been thrilled hearing the news that Carl liked guys… but devastated that the news came intertwined with the rumor that he was seeing one currently. Since then, the blushing and stuttering began. Blake started avoiding Carl, and they hang out less. In fact, beyond keeping up appearances, Blake became more withdrawn altogether.

"Master Blake? Is something troubling you?" Winston glanced in the rear view mirror at Blake's sulky face, which was resting in his hand.

"...No more than the usual, I suppose." Blake sighed.

When they arrived at the Gripling's manor, Blake made a beeline to his room and closed the door. He stripped off his clothes piece by piece. A blazer, a turtleneck, and slacks lied on the floor in a dejected lump. Blake gazed into the mirror before him. Always slender, the 5'5 boy stood at only 115 pounds according to his last weighing. Although he was just a hair above underweight, 115 still felt like too much for him. He pulled on some shorts and began his daily exercise regimen. As he moved he thought of Carl Foutley. Push ups. Carl laughing and punching Blake's shoulder, last day of seventh grade. Sit ups. Terrence telling Blake that Carl likes both, Blake thinking of the late nights alone in the doghouse or on walkie-talkie, wondering what was on Carl's mind all those times. Winter of eighth. Jumping jacks. Carl, clad in a worn-looking suit and half slicked hair with his face pressed against some artsy guy's, some guy who still had a red electric guitar strapped to him. Pure heartbreak, freshman year homecoming. Planks. What the hell was that in English? Why couldn't Carl just slow down his self-destructing rebellion for one second to see that Blake was crazy about him? Mentally counting calories burned, Blake pronounced himself finished. He collapsed into bed, deciding he would sleep through dinner tonight; then he reached into his shorts and imagined being that guitar player at homecoming.


End file.
